Farther and Farther
by LoverOfTragedies
Summary: Have I suffered enough? When will this end? Will someone help? I guess not. It won't end. I am alone. This world, I am alone. But time will come, and I will be free. (Updated; Chapter 2.) Family AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Farther and Farther**

**A Hetalia Fanfic**

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><p><em>Hello there. If you're reading this, then you must have found my diary.<em>

It's been a very long time. A long time of jealousy, sadness and loneliness. A long time of constant war with my sanity. I don't know when this will stop, but something tells me it won't.

I was not lonely before. I was not jealous before. I was not lonely too. All I was before was innocent. Innocent to the truth of the world. Some kind to piece in a board game. Having no control and yet being dictated on. A cruel joke, some would say. But I have no say. I've been punished for no criminal activity. I, forced to play the villain, had to endure centuries of mishaps and pain.

Such a wicked chronicle in my life. I don't know how I'll cope up. That itself sent me spiraling downward everything. All the things I loved are gone. My family. My country. My trust. And my dignity.

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><p>It all started on the Kalmar Union.<p>

My ruler was quite ambitious. Wanting this and that. Grab whatever you can and rob them blind. Cunning too. She got my brothers to join me in one country. This idea I did not like. I tried my best to stall this, but I failed.

Berwald and Lukas, both of my brothers, both unaware of the hidden things in the letter. I feared on what would happen to them. I cared for them. They were my only brothers. And yet this horrible paper will tear us apart.

The dreadful thought happened. Berwald, seething with rage, stormed out of my house, bringing Tino with him. My outer demeanor said nothing, but inwardly, I was screaming. Screaming for him to forgive me and come back. This was not my doing. It was this wretched curse brought upon us nations. I wanted to rebel against my rulers, but I have no choice but to serve them, for I am only a personification.

Later on, gruesome murders and massacres happened left and right, guided by my kings. Then came the Stockholm Bloodbath. This was the thing that crossed Berwald so badly, I was left almost dead afterwards. I couldn't do anything but watch as blood splattered everywhere, on the ground and on me. Even the horrible stench of it sends me reeling.

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><p>Then the World Wars came.<p>

Napoleon. That little Corsican whose head swam in power and pride. Whose mind was like Prussia's, designed to make every single war tactic as if it was written by a perfect being. And in his plans included me and Lukas. My king agreed, fooled by the truce made with France. I told him not to, but as like the others, I was shrugged off. Months later, Napoleon's defeat has spread all-throughout of Europe. My king had a horrified look on his face, and blamed me for my incompetence. I tried stopping him. And look where it got me. Alone. Norway was eventually taken away from me, with force. And the one who took him was Berwald. He said this was some kind of revenge.

The only thing I have done was crying. I lost my closest brother. To him of all people! Ironic isn't it? That all of this events are happening to me. I started to go insane by that point. Iceland was the only one left, and sure as hell I won't let anyone take him away from me, for the sake of Lukas.

Then, Napoleon's fan, Hitler, came to crash the party. With his anti-Jew propaganda and rules, he has set all of Europe in chaos. With Stalin as his partner-in-crime, Poland fell first. Then next, us. Germany, or his evil twin, Nazi Germany, gave us a choice. To surrender to him, leaving everything unscathed, or to suffer the wrath of being invaded and ruled over. Three guesses on what was the decision of my government, and the first two won't count. And that's where I was wrong. I thought my country would fight, but it surrendered. To my shock. IT SURRENDERED. I could not believe it. The King of Scandinavia, surrendering to some country that's not even a century old. Hitler then became my temporary boss. And as he was Napoleon's fan, he also tried doing what Napoleon did. Upstage all of Europe then seize the throne of Europe's overlord.

And as Napoleon's fan, he failed by the method where Napoleon failed too. And this added insult to injury. After the war, I was branded as Hitler's little Dane. Even if I tried fighting back. And during the war, Iceland declared independence. I couldn't blame the kid. He would later on get in trouble if he did not separate from me. It felt heart-breaking and relieving at the same time. Relieved that my little brother is safe, but heart-breaking because I am alone. Truly alone.

I tried building back my relations with the rest of the Nordics, but they still don't trust me. Berwald is still mad at me. Lukas treats me differently now. Tino's overly polite that it shows his hatred of my existence. Emil's socially awkward, but that I accept.

Up until now, nothing's changed. Nothing good happened. I'm going crazy now. Not even one of them visited me again. I am all alone. In the darkness of my past, and in the bleakness of my future. I have no choice but to accept this punishment. This unfair punishment.

A malicious chapter of my life gone, and a more vicious future for me. My book will end someday. But this chapter has still a long way to go. I don't really know when it will stop, but if it will, I would be dead by then.

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><p><strong>All of this, in due time, will set me free.<strong>

**Free from anguish, pain and suffering.**

**Free from life's unfair game.**

**Free forever.**

**But for now, I must suffer from the past.**

**I must walk the torturous mile.**

**I must walk to my final resting place.**

**I must pay for my shortcomings.**

**Under me is the cruel world.**

**There I can see them,**

**See them going**

**Farther and Farther.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

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><p><em><strong>I write again. To you it seems.<strong>_

_**Will this suffering end? I need to keep myself alive.**_

**I'm not sure why I'm writing this. I'm not even sure why I have this idea. The only thing I'm sure of is that I'm alone.**

It's not like I want to be alone, but I just accepted it. No one wants to be with me. Not my brothers, not even my neighbors. It's like I'm some sort of disease that everyone doesn't want to contract.

It's been like this for a while, and it's eating my sanity little by little. My resolve to be happy is fading fast, and my chipper mask is crumbling. I've been cutting for a while now too. My arm littered by scars, some fading and some new, but it will still continue. The only thing missing is a suicide case. And I'm not sure if it won't happen.

Sometimes, I'd like to think that the world just wants to fuck with me, to think that fate wanted to play a prank on me, a prank gone wrong. And now I'm taking the blames.

**Given the fact I'm quite explosive and manipulative doesn't help with my coping.**

Living alone is somehow good and bad for me. Good because I have no one to bother, or no one to bother me. On the other hand, bad because the silence tends to kill me every time. I never really wanted the company, but somehow, my inner being craves for it.

I've tried to cure myself before. Tried to cure myself from all this suffering. Getting sent to psychiatrists and doctors never really help, and adding insult to injury, getting beat up by my brother every time I see him, got me to spiral downward more.

Before, before this life of mine went sour, I was always jovial. My family was dysfunctional, sure, given the fact we were not that expressive enough, but we were a family. I was the eldest of five. Every day was so random. Sometimes, I'd get a fight with my siblings before going to school, and making up afterwards. Sometimes, I'd get quality time with them. But these all burned down to the ground just because of one thing.

**Our father died. And I was blamed for it.**

That little thing caused the seams to unweave, and my life to worsen. I was left alone by my brothers, people thought I was a murderer every time I roam the city streets, and I was pushed to the world of addiction. Addictions to beer and cutting.

Right now, I guess I would be laughing like a maniac. Laughing because I find this ironic. Ironic in the sense that these all force me to go insane. Here you go, whoever you are. I'm crying right now.

**Are you happy? Because I'm not.**

Will you be moved to become benevolent? Or will you fade with the others, sneering and mocking me while I roam the earth?

**It's really easy. Two things. Benevolence or vengeance. Life or Death.**

As this diary of mine becomes littered with wet blotches of tears, and red strokes of blood, you, who reads this, are the only one who knows this. Whether you'd tell my brothers or not, I won't change. I can't.

Sometimes, I'm deluded. Deluded by the fact that there is this voice inside, telling me that my brothers care for me. Telling me that I'll be alright. Telling me to live.

I wondered before. If my brothers would know about this, what would happen? Would they treat me like an insane being who deserves to be left inside a cage? Would they treat me like a shot puppy and take me in their care? Or would they nonchalantly shrug it off, as if they really don't care? I really don't know.

**One thing's for sure. They must not know.**

As this goes on, my mind ticks. Ticks as if it's like a clock. A clock waiting to stop ticking. A clock that will eventually breakdown and stop telling time. As if my mind's contemplating about it.

Right now, I'm sneering at myself. Sneering because I just thought of it now, that it somehow feels good. Feels good to die.

**So I will. You can say goodbye, but there will be no response.**

**The final part, the tragic libretto ends. Only a mark left on the book.**

**Only the sound of a thud, an eerie tone, and the sound of gushing blood.**

_BANG!_

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><p><em><strong>Days Later…<strong>_

It's not common for Mathias to be gone for a very long time. The Nordics were pretty much used to having the Dane disappear and then randomly pop out of nowhere, in front of their doors.

But this weird atmosphere of dread and fear floats around them. As if something's wrong. Given the fact that the four were, are, and will never be fond of the Dane, they can't shrug the fact that he's their brother. As dysfunctional as they are, they still formed bonds with each other.

Fearing the worst, the four ventured off to Denmark's house. Seeing it as quite dirty, given the fact that Mathias is too lazy to clean, they entered slowly, shouting Denmark's name. They heard nothing, so they went inside and investigated.

Tino went to the kitchen, Emil to the backyard, Lukas in the basement, and Berwald in Mathias' bedroom. Only to find out a dead Mathias and a dusty little journal. Both found on a dried pool of blood. Near it is a pistol that the Dane used when World War II was rampant.

Berwald immediately went downstairs, startling his "wife" and Lukas, only for them to see in Berwald's expression full of shock and despair.

Again, fearing the worst, the two called Emil and went upstairs. Only to see what Berwald saw. An ear-piercing scream resonates in the room. A small thud is heard. And a thick atmosphere of shock and sadness filled the air.

**Mathias. Was. Dead.**

Tino, very sad about what happened to the Dane, cried on Berwald, who, in his stoicism, doesn't want to cry. Lukas kneels down in shock and cries on the dead Dane's chest. Emil stares in shock, unable to find the correct expression for the event.

**All of the stunned. At the sight of a dead Dane. A dead smiling Dane.**

On his side, was the journal that Berwald found. Hesitantly, Lukas picked it up, opening to the first page. He read every page, and with each page, red strokes and wet blotches increasingly appeared, until the last, where the page was littered by blood and tears.

He couldn't believe it. Mathias was that depressed. That depressed where in suicide was his only option. And they didn't know. Because they didn't care about the Dane. Telling the rest about the diary, they all now were very shocked.

Now finding themselves at fault, they couldn't do anything. Even if they bargain for Death of bring their brother back, they couldn't. They could just cry and mourn for their loss. They could just blame themselves. The fortuitous event in their life is the worst, for them.

They were stuck for a good hour or two, where they reveled in the sadness of the Dane's words, and in shock about the suicide. After that, they decided to bury the Dane, along with his possessions.

With them is a book of fairy tales, an old axe passed to the Dane from generation to generation, and a small black hat. All these were the only possessions of the Dane.

They buried the Dane in his own backyard. Burying along with him is the hope of having a complete family. The hope where in everything could go back to what is was once before. The hope of spending the rest of their life together.

They also decided to create a makeshift gravestone. Considering on the Dane's personality, they decided on writing this:

**Her ligger Mathias Køhler.**

**En kærlig bror, en hensynsfuld ven, **

**og den bedste person, man kunne nogensinde har haft.**

After the burial, they left the grave. Ashamed and sad, they swore to never let this happen to one of them, again. Once was enough. They made a mistake, and they will never repeat it again.

As they were walking away from the grave. It started to snow. They felt even sadder. They remembered the Dane. They knew that the Dane liked the snow, and winter in general. It just made it harder for them to move on. But they must. Or else, one by one, they too would follow the steps of the Dane, and they would suffer a whole lot more.

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><p><strong>AN: Hello! Here is the final chapter of Farther and Farther! I hope you like it. :)<strong>

**Please to read and rate, and if there are mistakes, please tell me.**

**I would like to improve more, as I might make more stories, depending on my schedule.**

**Thanks a lot!**

**~ LoverOfTragedies**


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